


Communication is Key (to Your Survival)

by Musings_of_a_Monster



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (I tried to write their behavior realistically but I'm no zoologist), Brief Blasphemous Language, Dammit Westfahl, Gen, Steve's Too Old for This Shit, Swearing, Tangentially Related to the HYDRA Trash Party, spotted hyenas, you son of a bitch murphy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-17 01:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4646457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musings_of_a_Monster/pseuds/Musings_of_a_Monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spotted hyenas are highly intelligent animals with a complex social hierarchy and system of communication.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Communication is Key (to Your Survival)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts).



> This happened because tumblr, Lauralot, and my own questionable life choices.

“ _I thought he was right behind me! He was_ supposed _to be right behind me!_ ”  
“God _dammit_ , Westfahl!” Rumlow snarled into the communicator. He took a deep breath, rubbed back his short hair, and spoke again, “Stay exactly where you are. Do _not_ move until I say so. Do _not_ use your communicator until I buzz you. Think you can fucking manage that?”  
“ _Yes, sir_ ,” the tame response from a team member known for his obstinacy made Steve’s stomach ache.  
Rumlow buzzed the other stranded agent, “Murphy? Do you copy?”  
“ _I copy_.”  
“Good. Rollins has his sights on the little bastards. You just keep still and low.”  
“ _Sir, Commander, sir, you_ can’t _do that sir._ ”  
“What?”

Nearly a football field’s length away, Murphy had himself propped on one elbow, his legs curling against him. He wiped the blood from his nose and forehead. Black hair sucking in the heat and dripping in his eyes.  
And circling him were five hyenas.

“ _What do you know about hyenas, sir?_ ”  
“Absolutely fuck-all,” Rumlow said, “What’s your point?”  
“ _Please, sir. Do. Not. Shoot_.”  
Phung gripped the ground under one pied hand with a tension that reminded Steve of a coiled spring. “Commander, I could charge them.”  
“With what, your _knife_?” Rollins asked. She glared at him without moving her head.  
Steve looked from Phung to Rollins to Rumlow. “I can’t throw my shield that far with any real accuracy, but if we charged, it _could_ scare them away from Murphy.”  
Rumlow tapped the communicator against the bridge of his nose. “Phung, no. Rogers, maybe.” The startled and wounded look Phung took on reminded Steve, uncomfortably, of someone he couldn’t quite place. “Don’t look at me like that. When you’re a super soldier, you can stab all the ugly dogs you want.”  
“ _Actually, sir, they’re more closely related to felids._ ”  
“Shut the fuck up, Murphy,” Rumlow said, “Look, we’re sending in Rogers and Rollins will cover him as necessary. Just stay put—”  
“ _Wait, wait! I-I think I can do this!_ ”  
“What? What are you doing, Murphy?”  
Rollins looked up from his scope, his mouth agape. “Murphy, you son of a bitch.”  
“Oh my God, he’s trying to talk to them,” Phung said.  
Returning to his scope, Rollins said, “Oh my God, it’s _working_.”  
Murphy made a laughing sound, and one animal slowly approached him. He turned on to his side, allowing himself to be sniffed. The hyena lifted her leg to allow him the same privilege.  
Jack’s face twisted in disgust, and he pulled away from his scope. Phung crawled over to take a look. “Is-is he? I think he’s sniffing its junk. Or, like, it’s trying to get him to.” She leaned into the scope. “That’s so gross.”

The animal eventually seemed to lose interest, and started trotting away. The others followed soon after. Murphy flopped onto his back. His communicator buzzed.  
“ _Murphy! Murphy do you copy?_ ” It was Rumlow.  
“I copy,” Murphy said. A ways away, Westfahl stood up amongst patches of tall grass, waving his arms overhead.  
“ _You see Westfahl? Can you make it over there?_ ”  
“Yes, sir,” Murphy nodded despite being too far away for Rumlow to see.  
“ _Good. The rest of us will come to you. Try to make sure Westfahl doesn’t choke on a fucking rock or some shit._ ”

Back on the quinjet, Westfahl and Murphy tried to explain what happened. Westfahl put his hands out in front of him as if they actually held the truth. “And so the tire blew out, and we had to walk. But then these hyenas come out of _nowhere_ , and me and Murphy start running, only when I get to the grass _he isn’t there_!”  
“There was a rock I tripped on when I looked back,” Murphy said, “and when I got up, the hyenas were close enough that running would have been a bad idea.”  
“Alright,” Rumlow said, keeping his eyes on the sky and his hands on the quinjet’s controls, “What I wanna know is why we couldn’t just shoot the damn things.”  
“Oh, right,” Murphy said, “several of them were female, including the one that got closest to me.” He furrowed his brow and looked at nothing. “They were lactating. They had cubs to feed. And hyenas don’t take care of each other’s cubs, even if they’re in the same clan.” Genuine horror crept into Murphy’s eyes. “If Rollins had shot them, all their cubs would have _died_.”  
For several long moments, Rumlow was silent. Then, perfectly calm, he said, “Jack. Man the ’jet.” Rumlow stood and Rollins obeyed without a word.  
Rumlow walked toward Murphy, cracking his knuckles.  
“Uh, boss?” Murphy backed up a bit. Grabbing his subordinate by the shoulder, Rumlow didn’t-quite-drag Murphy to the back of the quinjet. When what sounded like muffled yelps came from the back, Steve angled himself toward the rear.  
“Don’t,” said Phung, “Best to let ’em work it out themselves.”

Murphy leaned up against the wall, shoulders rounded in a sulking fashion. His eyes looked a bit swollen to Steve, and almost certainly redder. Other than that, though, he appeared to be unharmed. He glared at the back of Rumlow’s head and petulantly muttered, “Worth it.”  
Without turning around Rumlow said, “Murphy, seeing as you literally _just_ got your ass handed to you, I’m gonna let that slide. But if one more insubordinate word comes out of your mouth, we can go again.”  
A poorly repressed snort came from Westfahl’s direction.  
“You want some, too, Westfahl?”  
“No,” Westfahl said quickly, “No, sir.”

“And that’s what happened at work today,” Steve took another bite of noodles. Sitting next to him at the bar, Natasha used her chopsticks to twirl her duck in rice. “How was your day?”  
“A half-naked man in a ski mask tried to rob a convenience store with a gun and three ostriches.” She chewed her food thoughtfully, “We’re not sure where he got the ostriches.”

**Author's Note:**

> Westfahl is an OC of Dira Sudis (dsudis), and Murphy is an OC of Lauralot. As I understand it, Westfahl is supposed to be more of a dick. Let's just pretend he was having a good day. Murphy, on the hand, is a cinnamon roll. Maybe hyenas just aren't much for sweets? 
> 
> Phung is mine. She has vitiligo, but I only hinted at it once. (I need to learn to balance story and character description.)
> 
> I tried to be as accurate as possible with the hyenas, but I'm no zoologist. If you see something wrong, please let me know and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> No, Rumlow didn't do anything unspeakable to Murphy. Get your mind out of the dumpster (you can put it back when we're done here). Don't fucking tell me "Order Through Pain" HYDRA doesn't endorse some form of corporeal punishment. I'm sure it hurt Rumlow more than it hurt Murphy. (No, it didn't.)
> 
> The man with the ostriches robbing a store is from a commercial for gum done up like security footage. It's a thing that you can watch in context-less gifs around the internet.


End file.
